For Albion
by the-vampire-act
Summary: Oneshot. Merlin's faith in Albion's destiny has been lacking since Mordred's knighting. Although Arthur hasn't a clue what's wrong with his manservant, he's still determined to change his friend's mood.


**For Albion**

Merlin watched as the rain knocked against the shutters and the bricks of the royal castle. Arthur would be returning from training with his knights any minute now, and Merlin knew that he should be cleaning the prat's room, but the dreary weather coupled with the walock's depressed mood motivated him otherwise. So instead he sat with his head on his knees and sat on the floor closest to his master's window. He let out a heavy sigh. Mordred would be the end of Camelot, especially now that he'd gain the trust of his king. Arthur would let his guard down around him, tell him things that once upon a time he would have only told Merlin. Things were changing in the walls of Camelot, yet Merlin feared that the same destiny would prevail in the end. Mordred would turn against Arthur; it was now just a matter of time.

So Merlin 's glazed over eyes watched each and every rain drop as they clanked against the glass. And while he stared, he thought. He thought about how useless destiny was if no matter what you did you'd only end up fucked over. It was a fool's game, and Merlin was tired of playing the fool, in all honesty. Why- if everything he had worked for,every sacrafice he made, every time he'd put himself in danger was all just a vain ,useless attempt in the name of saving a destiny that he couldn't ever change- did he still care enough to try over and over again to  
change that which refused to change? The warlock shook his head. No, destiny may refuse to change, but he could always try to quit the game. Who in their right mind would stay in a game that they could never win, anyways? He could always leave Camelot, go back to Ealdor. Destiny could thrust itself back on him if he left, of course, but there was always the chance that it might not, and now Merlin realized that was a chance he really was willing to take.

The sound of a door slamming shut made Merlin jump in surprise. Only then did he realize that he had started crying.

"Dozing off again, I see," the pompous king smirked. Arthur threw his sword and armor down before promptly making his way to Merlin. He halted in front of Merlin, who still hadn't bothered looking up, and he pursed his lips. "Merlin? Is something the matter?"

Merlin cursed under his breath. Arthur reallly could be dense sometimes, especially when it came to feelings. He wanted so badly to give the king a piece of his mind, but, quite frankly, he doubted that he could do so effectively in his current state.

"No, sire. Everthing...everything is fine."

Arthur didn't fail to notice the crack in his servant's voice or the crying face reflected off the window glass. What he did fail to recognize, however, was the cause of these things. So Arthur quietly walked to a large box on the other end of the room and pulled out an older, smaller box. He then walked back to the window and sat on the floor next to Merlin. The box slid down next to Merlin, and Arthur instructed him to open it. Merlin blinked away a few tears before gingerly lifting the lid off. He frowned. Finally he was forced to look up at Arthur. "What is this?"

Arthur blinked. "I assumed that the ward of the court physician had seen a book before."

"Yes, but what is this about?"

Arthur scooted closer to Merlin and picked up the book. He then placed it in Merlin's hands for closer examination. Merlin, much to Arthur's pleasure, finally dropped his knees so he could no longer hide his face. The sadness was still evident, but Arthur now sensed a growing curiosity as well. "Gauis gave me this book when I was just a boy. He told me to hide it, though, because Father wouldn't approve of me reading such nonsense. Said it could be our little secret."

Merlin listened as he flopped through the pages of the book. The picture contained etchings of a prince and dragons and other such creatures. The funny thing was, though, that the prince wasn't slaying the magical beings. In fact, they seemed to be getting along quite fine. Merlin glanced at the text and his eyes landed on a specific sentence: "And so the land of Albion was saved once more."

"Gauis said that this was a book he had growing up, and that he wished for me to have it. I would read it at night and imagine all the adventures I could have with such creatures. I read it so many times that after a while I didn't even need the book to remember the words or what the creatures looked like. But soon enough, I started to forget, and the tales lost their magic for me." Arthur was frowning by this point.

"Why are you showing me this?" Merlin asked.

"Because I thought you needed a reminder- well, we both did, really. Because sometimes, we forget that not everything that looks like a monster is one, and that sometimes we've got to trust that we've made the right choices even when doubt seems to be the only thing we can be sure of." Arthur looked up at Merlin to see that he was still crying. The king gently lowered the book from the black haired boy's hands. Merlin forced himself to look up, his eyes finally swelling with tears. "I know you won't tell me what's wrong, but at least know that you could if you wanted to. I'm not a monster, and neither are you. And...and I want to thank you for always being there when I needed to talk but didn't want to. You've always been the best of friends to me. I only hope that one day I will be able to return the favor. Until then, why don't we stay here and find out how this story of ours ends?"

Merlin nodded and smiled weakly. He didn't speak, though, because he didn't have anything to say. For Arthur would return the favor one day- the day that the once and future king finally united Albion once and for all. Until that day, he would doubt. There would be days when he'd want to give up, but then there would be moments like this that would secure his faith in Arthur. Until then, he would suffer through, because not even he could deny destiny.

He'd do it for himself, for Arthur.

For Albion.


End file.
